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True Love like any other
addiction is prosaic
except for those who share
the kisses
the caresses
where every sound is a song
and colors deepens and brightens
where every sense is heightened
and the moon and sun rises and sets
creating a reality that is predicted
by moments
moments strung together
forming an esoteric pattern that the
spirit climbs as those in love
try to sustain what they
perceive as thier
reality
true love is a narcotic,
an affliction, a drug for the heart

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